So this relationship was the main source of control Becky had over my life. When she wanted something or needed something done I did it. I would do an...thing Becky asked or demanded I do.This fateful enlightening evening we were taking a bath, something we did often together in our small home. Becky was upset with me because I had not fully helped, or rather solely picked up our room while she played on her bed. We had gotten in a bit of trouble because it hadn’t been done. So here we were in. “Perfume?” she says. “Not today, okay?” he says. “We have enough fragrances to keep us feeling heady. I thought you might need a new pair of jeans.” “What?” she asks, confused, but still following. “Jeans?” “Um-hmm,” he murmurs, they’ve already arrived in the department and he’s casting an eye over a Tommy Hilfiger rack. “This size?” Snapping open a pair. “Jeans?” she says. “Dressing room’s this way,” he shoves a pair of ultra low-rise bell-bottoms in her arms, takes her elbow, and leads her to. More

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